


Aggregation

by cofax



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Episode Related, Fallen, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-13
Updated: 2010-03-13
Packaged: 2017-10-07 23:23:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/70324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cofax/pseuds/cofax
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Resurrection is a bitch.  May 2004.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Aggregation

There was . . . a piano.

He stands in the doorway for several minutes, bag forgotten at his side, before walking all   
the way into the house and closing the door. Sunlight streams through tall windows   
across the floor, the patterned rug, the couch artfully placed at an angle to the door.

The bag drops to the floor with a soft "plop", and he turns slowly around, surveying the   
rooms. It's a simple place: O'Neill -- "Jack," he insisted, "you always call me Jack," --   
helped him pick it, driving from address to address on the list Sam had printed out for   
them. Daniel thinks, he's not sure, but he thinks he didn't live in a house before.

In the last place, there was a view, he could see down to the road, a long way. There   
were plants he would leave on the balcony, sometimes they died before he came back.   
Other places there were rooms, cramped with boxes of books and field equipment, rooms   
he never had time to make his own before moving on to the next grant, the next   
fellowship.

Tents. He remembers tents, too. Dull green canvas on thick aluminum poles, his father   
staggering under the weight, his mother laughing as they fought to unroll the cloth. Thin   
light backpacking tents, ceiling vent open to the stars during his winters in Egypt -- grad   
school, maybe?

And skin tents. Goats, probably: brown and white and tan and grey, heavy and dusty.   
They smelled disgusting when they got wet, and Daniel can't remember why he knows   
that. Shau're had pealed with laughter, and Skaara had -- it's gone.

He looks down at the bag at his feet: it holds an extra pair of jeans, a sweatshirt Jack had   
tossed to him -- "Hey, you left this in my car that night we went for Thai," -- and three   
books on Etruscan funerary rites. He's been on his feet, on the move his entire life. Even   
without conscious access to three quarters of his memories, he knows this, knows that he   
never had time or patience to accumulate *things*.

"We put a lot of your stuff into storage," Sam said, and blushed, oddly, before going off   
to call the movers. Daniel raised an eyebrow at Jack, who just shrugged.

Why does he have a piano?

END


End file.
